


Limbs Are Overrated, Anyway

by NightmareLane



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Cannibalism, Gen, Starvation, Violence, autocannibalism, this got way out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmareLane/pseuds/NightmareLane
Summary: a personal take on how junkrat lost certain body parts





	Limbs Are Overrated, Anyway

The question came up more often than Junkrat wanted to think about. He couldn’t really avoid it proper, but he could sure as hell deflect it- a manic giggle here, a wave of a hand there- and no two answers he gave were exactly the same.

“Blew ‘em off in Oz!” Was what he told Tracer when she first asked in the transport bay on the way to a job.

“Car accident when I was a kid.” To the old lady running the boba shop in Rialto.

“Pissed off the wrong buncha suits.” He told Roadhog, and maybe his partner didn’t entirely buy it, but he didn’t press, either, and Junkrat was eternally grateful.

Truth was, Junkrat didn’t like to think about how he lost his limbs, and the idea of telling anyone else? No, too risky. The secret would be his and his alone and he liked it that way.

\----

The leg was the first to go, years ago. He’d been fifteen, maybe sixteen, starving and desperate as he staggered his way toward the Omnium. It was exhausting, dragging his way through the baking heat of the desert sun with nothing but three dried meal bars and a canteen of water to his name.

The Omnium towered over anything else, a hulking beast of a building that dominated the irradiated landscape despite being half-collapsed and broken to shit. Vehicles cobbled together from scrap dotted the scrub around it- the only remnants of the poor fools that had wandered in, hoping for some saving grace, and never made it out. The only things those were useful for were loot, and so far everything was turning up nil. Going into the Omnium didn’t sound incredibly fun, but Junkrat heard rumours of treasure being in there, and even if there wasn’t any, all these vehicles had bodies and those bodies had to have _something_ worth taking. He didn’t exactly have any other options here.

The cool shade of the Omnium’s interior was a welcome respite from the searing sun, hours later, and Junkrat nearly collapsed with relief when he finally made it inside. No time for that, he had to keep moving, ration out what he had left and pray it and whatever he could loot off some corpses would be enough to get him through this expedition.

Junkrat may have been tall, but he was scrawny, and he was nimble enough to get through most of the blocked areas with ease. Twisted metal supports and broken stone now served as places for him to grip, to find footing as he lived up to his name, scrambling over each new pile as though it were nothing but another mound of scrap in the junkyard and not a precariously placed stack of death. Stray bloodstains and body parts let him know where to avoid stepping lest he have the same fate as the last person that upset the piles. Having his head crushed wasn’t too high on his bucket list, after all.

The metallic taste on the back of his tongue only grew stronger the further into the ruined building he went, unsure if he was going further underground or what at this point. It was getting colder, so that would have made sense. Grimacing, Junkrat spat off to one side, baring his teeth at the ground in front of him when it did nothing to ease that nasty metal tang in his mouth. Gross. So very gross. Maybe he should have brought a mask or some shit- no, too late, no point in dwelling on it.

Shit, it was dark down there. He had matches, but those wouldn’t last nearly long enough, and the tiny portable light didn’t have enough batteries for both this and a return trip- augh. He could always just feel his way through the place, there was just enough for him to make out shapes if he squinted. It would have to work.

He didn’t know how long had passed when he went to take a sip from his canteen only to find it empty. Cursing softly, he kept moving, not knowing what else to do. He’d gone this far, what other options were there? Turning back when he had nothing in his hands to show for it? No, Junkrat didn’t quit, not now and not ever.

When he finally found that great sprawling room with conveyor belts and who knew what else, it was by accident, falling out of a half-rusted ventilation shaft and landing hard on the floor several feet below. Gasping, choking on dust, he nearly didn’t notice what he found, the dim lights (backup power, maybe? solar panels somehow still hooked up? it was a puzzle that would keep him occupied for ages) illuminating what would be his saving grace.

And maybe he would never tell anyone _exactly_ what it was he found, either, even as he shoved enough in his satchel to threaten to make its seams burst, nearly sobbing with relief as he scrambled about the room. How he would make his way out was a whole other problem, but he at least had _this_ and he was probably the only person in the whole of the Outback to manage that.

Leaving the room plunged him back into darkness, but he couldn’t care less about that, reassured by the new weight on his shoulders. A newfound spring was in his step as he scrambled to find his way out, unable to keep the grin off his face all the while.

Until he reached the collapsed hallway.

“Wot tha hell am I supposed ta do about this, then?” Junkrat snarled, sitting in front of the mound of dirt and rubble. He could practically taste the fresh air on the other side, if he could just get through this last blockade he would be out of here!! Who knew how long he had been down in the damn place? How long it had been since he’d eaten, had a drink? If he turned back, there was no guarantee he would find another way out, but there was no guarantee this was it, either-

No, he couldn’t afford to think like that! The exit was right on the other side of the rubble! He just had to be smarter than the problem. Think, Junkrat, think, use that noggin for once and figure it out.

_His bombs._

Beaming once more, he dug out a few of the mines he kept rigged up for emergencies just like this. It was a perfect plan! Blow the rubble to kingdom come and he would be home free. It was foolproof, perfect, and as Junkrat hit the detonator, a beautiful explosion!

He cackled, manic, scrambling forward before the dust had even settled. Freedom!! Sweet freedom! It was his, all his!

A pebble bounced off his head and he looked up, eyebrows furrowing. “Mh…?”

Cracks spiderwebbed in what remained of the roof of the hallway, spreading slowly, and Junkrat’s eyes widened as a larger hunk of the roof fell. “Shite-”

He yelped as he scrambled to get over the remains of the pile, eyes wide and terrified as he slipped and skidded along with pieces falling around him. Killed by his own explosion, what a way to go! He couldn’t help but giggle, and keep giggling, not sure what else to do with himself.

Junkrat didn’t feel it at first, when the twisted chunk of metal support fell on him- _into_ him. He sure as hell noticed when his right leg wouldn’t take his weight anymore, letting out a high whine in fear of what he would find. It wasn’t huge, not compared to what it came off of, but it was heavy enough to be dragging itself down from where it embedded in and undoubtedly shattered his knee. Junkrat choked on air and giggled again, turning away to drag himself forward, always forward, because where else could he go?

Another something dug itself into him, in the lower calf of that same deadened leg, and his eyes shone with tears that wouldn’t fall. All of him was scraped and bruised, dirty, but his fucking _leg--_

Keep moving. Gotta keep moving. Junkrat laughed as the collapse finally quit and the dust settled proper, danger passing for the time being. Just gotta move forward.

By the time he made it out of the Omnium, he was delirious with pain and hunger, dehydration long since set in. Vaguely, he could remember where a town was, that he had something valuable in his bag, and that he needed to get help or his leg would inevitably kill him.

And that’s precisely what he did, albeit with far more struggle. Paying off a different Junker with an object and a threat to blow them both up if he didn’t make it to the next town took care of the need for a ride, at least. Shiela probably thought she would be looting a corpse, but no, he was still alive and kicking and damn well planned to keep it that way!!

Dealing with the doc was far harder, the bloke telling him infection had set in deep and he was half lost to fever and honestly if he was coughing blood it would be more merciful to put him down but--

They amputated his leg, in the end, and Junkrat refused to let the doc knock him out for it for fear of the man offing him while he was under anyway. More merciful his arse, he’d just spent Oz knew how long in the Omnium to get to this point, mercy would be letting him get shitfaced and leaving him be to sulk over his sudden weight loss.

\----

The arm went a few years later, still before he met Roadhog but long after news of his discovery got out and he had to start running. Catching lizards could only go so far and he hadn’t been able to stop long enough to stock up on rations before someone recognised his patchy hair and peg leg, his grin missing half the teeth, and decided they wanted the bounty on his head. When he found the treasure, he hadn’t anticipated _this._

Junkrat had managed to find a shack, at least, to hole up in for a while. It would be safe enough- it would have to be, he needed rest badly and it was easy enough to trap the place.

Fuck, he was hungry.

A swift search of the shack revealed nothing, and his pack held nothing edible- thank fuck he had water to last, at least- so his stomach would have to wait. Just sleep the hunger away or something. Later, when he had enough rest to think straight, he would go and try to forage something or catch some protein, anything that could fill the void.

But sleep wouldn’t come, not with the way his belly ached and cramped, and when he opened his eyes his vision swirled a bit around the edges. Nothing felt quite real as he stared down at his hands, deliberating on the best course of action. Shit, he still had two hands, and he had the ability to replace one if he needed to, just like his leg-

What was he thinking? Disgusting. No. Absolutely not. He needed to- to-

There was something sharp in his left hand- the knife he used to clean up what few larger kills he managed to get. Junkrat felt like he was watching through a window as the knife came down once, twice, again and again, until all he had was a bleeding stump and a dirty arm in front of him.

Was he really this desperate? Had he stooped this low? He should at least care for the wound before it turned into another infection like his leg. Sluggish, he turned the remains of a chair long demolished into a fire and heated the same knife he used to chop the arm off, pressing hot metal to ruined flesh. The first scream was all he had energy for, echoing around the tiny shack, searing pain lancing to his core as he cauterised the wound. Past that, soft giggles and sniffs were all he could manage as he made sure he wouldn’t go bleeding out all over the place.

That taken care of, he turned to face the severed arm, regarding it carefully with that same detached feeling that had been driving him all night. He was really considering this, wasn’t he? His own arm, dinner. Gone and cut it off and everything without a second thought. Junkrat shuddered, swallowing hard. He shouldn’t. It was a whole new level of wrong. He would die if he didn’t.

Junkrat’s arm didn’t go to waste that night.

\----

Telling people the truth of how his limbs were replaced with metal was the last thing Junkrat ever wanted to do, and someday he hoped people would stop asking. Until then, the lies would grow greater, the tales taller, and he liked it that way.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in an hour and i think i dissociated the entire time. whoops. merry christmas yall.


End file.
